Return of the Bride  dead story
by solair
Summary: Victor has been trying to continuing with his life, after the events of 'The Corpse bride'  STORY NOW BEING RE WRITTEN.  First chapter up soon


The Return of the bride

by solair

Five long years had passed since the event of Victor's wedding, the events of that night long ago had not been forgotten by the small town.

Shortly after the 'wedding', both Victor and Victoria left at the dead of night, for a small farm house on the coast over looking the north sea.

The Van Dort's had sold there fish mungers, and moved to another town, given their son, enough to get by and buy the cottage to which they now lived.

Although Victor kept in contact with his parents, the same could not be said for Victoria, who was disowned by hers. And the last she heard, they too had left the manor house and moved for pastures anew.

Each year on the eve of their wedding anniversary, a candle was lit within the front room window, which over looked the sea, in memory of Emily.

The cottage had a large front facing sash window, which over looking the bay and harbour below. On summer days Victoria would sit within the windows watching the small fleet of fishing vessels leaving the port and heading out to sea.

Victor had taken a job within the harbour, as a clerk weighing in the vessel's haul. He enjoyed the job, and within the five years of working there, he'd become well respected member of the harbour community.

No one within the new town had any idea of the couples past. When asked, Victor regale a tale, which embellished a few facts, but also hid quite a few more.

Victor would say that he and Victoria were from a town up country. His family had a business there when he was younger which he helped to run. But they retired shortly after he and Victoria married, moving away from the town. Leaving Victor to move to his new home and start a new life for him and newly wed wife.

However his voice would change and develop a hint of sadness as he contained his tale, saying Victoria's family had died some time back. They'd been a family well know in the area and had passed away quite suddenly. Leaving Victoria with only memories, as unfortunately Victoria did not get on with her parents.

And so it had continued for five years, Victor working hard within the harbour, making ends meet. With Victoria happy at home with her art, to which she so enjoyed. It had been unfortunate that they'd not been blessed with children, something that the couple desperately wanted, but there was still time.

Then on the morning of the firth anniversary of their wedding, Victor left for work as he always did, as he said good by to his wife and dog, Sage, then left. As he closed the door, something caught his attention, it was a brand of a goat's head, which had been burnt into the door. As Victor watched in stunned disbelief it started to fade away, leaving nothing, not even a trace that it had ever been there.

A sudden gust of wind swept passed Victor, as it did so, he heard the unmistakeable voice of Emily; "...Victor..." her voice naught but a whisper upon the gust of wind.

Shaken Victor looked round expecting to see something, but of what he was unsure. Casually he turned away from the house, outwards into the street that lead down the hill and towards the harbour. However he saw nothing, save for leaves dancing within the playful wind. The trees which stood on either side of the road had there red leaves of autumn, most had dropped, leaving all but a few upon the tree.

He started to walk, the half miles down hill to the harbour, nervously at first, the he tried to put it behind him. Surly he'd imagined it all, it couldn't be real, could it?

Victor's walk to work took longer then normal, he had a feeling as if he was being watched. However, each time he stopped to look around quickly, he found nothing. So he put his best foot forward, pulled his collar up and started to walk at a brisker pace.

When he arrived at work, he noticed that the harbour was busiest he'd seen it in a long while. Getting into his office, Victor discovered the reason why.

A lord of some description had bought the old farm house and grounds some ten miles out of town. He and his entourage were set to arrive today on the high tide, which was in a little over two hours time.

Not much was known about him, save for his name Lord Robert Cythraul, was a strange name to be true, but was only a name.

The Vessel to which he was in bond was called the Dawn Break, which was by all accounts a reasonably sized sloop. The harbour could only just accommodate a vessel of this size, and already smaller vessels were being sent to the smaller harbour down the cost for the night.

As the time approached for the arrival of this Lord Cythraul, a sea storm seemed to slowly edge its way inland encompassing the harbour and all within it. Thunder claps rolled within the clouds, as lightning spider webbed over head, and occasionally hit the sea.

There was a loud knock at Victor's door, which made Victor jump, as the door opened.

A tall medium built man, in his mid thirties wearing a black morning suite, with a red shirt, over which was a long black leather jacket. Victor couldn't see the man's eyes for he wore glasses, of a type of which he'd never seen before, they were tinted.

"Oh I do hope I'm not interrupting anything?" The man said as he smiled towards Victor, as he walked into Victor's office.

"No, of course not, can I help you Mr...?"

"Mr Rothschild, Marcus Rothschild at your service." He offered his hand to Victor, to which Victor shook; "Its a pleasure to meet you Mr Rothschild, Victor Van Dort at your service. Although I do I fear you have made a mistake, this office deals with fisherman's hauls, and not the running of the port. I fear you may need to speak to the harbour master Mr Richardson, if that is indeed what you require."

"Yes I wish to moor my boat here, I thought I was within the correct office."

"No sir, if you exit my office, turn right, the harbour master office is four doors along."

"Thank you kindly for your help."

"Not at all Mr Rothschild."

Victor start to take his seat again, as Mr Rothschild was about to exit his office, he pause for a second, said something softly almost out of ear shot but not quite.

"Beg pardon sir?"

"Oh sorry, talking to myself again;" he let slip a polite laugh, then looked out the window. "Looks like there's a storm coming, take care Mr Van Dort."

Half an hour later – Victor's office

The fringes of the storm were starting crash into the harbour wall with frighting force. Waves reared twenty feet high, there white caps exploding with fury showering far inside the wall of spray. The howling winds were a kin to the shrieks of a dying creature, and amongst the churning angry sea, thunder roared over head. The harbour master decided it would be safest if the harbour was closed and promptly issued the orders.

Victor left his office and walked the short distance to the harbour master's office. With him he carried the reports of the previous week ready for his approval.

Looking out of the window, and across the now angry sea, he could see the white caps of the waves dancing akin to some angry spirit of old. The sky had taken a strange almost greenish tint to the already leaden sky.

The wind was becoming stronger by each passing minute, and the waves crashed over the walls, pouring chaos into the relatively still waters of the harbour.

Upon the horizon, Victor saw something, his mind screamed it was impossible but yet the evidence was before him. A fast approaching wall of water some sixty foot high, came roaring towards the harbour. The closer the wave came to shore, it reared like a kind of Greek monster emerging from the seas ready to pounce upon its prey. At the last moment the waves white head of fury fell forward, engulfing the harbour, and all within it.

Victors last thought before the wave hit was of Emily.

Four hours later within the ruins of the harbour, once the storm had passed.

The Harbour wall was more like jagged teeth sticking out the sea, where the harbour wall had once stood. The offices piers and other builds which once made up the harbour complex had simply been washed away.

What was left was a mass of bodies and wood which floated in the harbour. The wave had washed away all within its path, and so where tress bushes and wildlife had once been, now there was nothing. Only bed rock remained for almost a quarter of a mile in land. The wave had never made it up to the cottage which Victoria and Victor owned, because of the hill to which the cottage stood, it had been saved.

However Victoria now stood with her friend Morgan staring in disbelief at the wreckage before her. The awful truth was that from all accounts, Victor was missing.

"Oh Morgan, where is he..." Victoria's voice whispered, her voice tinged with pain.

"I'm sure he got out..." Morgan's voice faltered. "...and he's out at sea on a raft or been rescued by one of the many fishing boats searching for survivors..." Morgan replied in a hopeful tone. However in her mind Morgan knew he'd more then likely been lost.

Victoria's ashen face turned towards the sea, surveying the scene, her eyes fixed on the only vessel moored just outside the harbour, it was the Dawn Break. She'd been ridden the storm out at sea, so she'd not been effected by the wave.

Mr Maxwell Rogers the manager of the harbour approached Victoria; "We'll do all within out power to find your husband, Mrs Van Dort, one way or another we'll find him..." His voice was flat, toneless and devoid of emotion. He nodded to her, then headed back into the wreckage which had once been the harbour.

Three days later...

Victoria was making her way down to the harbour, four bodies had been found out at sea. Mr Rogers had sent a message by way of one of the young boys who worked within the harbour. It informed her of the grim discovery. Although there was no mention of Victor she refused to go give up hope. And so she was on her way down to the harbour to prove to herself that Victor was still missing, and thus not dead in her eyes.

Victoria made her way through the harbour come building site, as from the ashes of the disaster, a fledgling complex was being constructed. Workers stopped and watched her, all knowing why she were there. Some nodded towards the grieving lass, as she walked into one of the only two buildings which had survived the tidal wave. A few moments latter Mr Rogers ushered her to the other, where the bodies of the four lost souls where located.

Ten minuets later that both were seen exiting the building; "I'm so sorry that there be still no sign of your husband." Mr Rogers was saying.

"Thank you Mr Rogers for keeping me informed." Victoria simply replied in a polite, but toneless manor. Before turning and almost gliding out of the harbour and back up the hill towards the cottage she called home.

Once she reached her home with a heavy heart Victoria walked through the front door, and took a seat within the old rocking chair by the bow window.

That's when she noticed a tightly bound scroll, with a strange red wax seal, wrapped with a blue ribbon, which had been placed by the candle for Emily.

One thing for sure, it had not been there before, when she'd left for the harbour. Tentatively her hand reached out for the parchment. At a mere fingers length they froze for a moment, taking a deep breath she took hold of the old scroll.

With a click, Victoria broke the seal, which bound closed the scroll, as the seal broke, a small puff of smoke appeared above the seal itself.

Slowly Victoria unrolled the scroll, as she did so a faint musty smell played across her nostrils, almost a kin to her grand mama's room of so many years ago.

The scroll read as followed...

Dear Mrs Victoria Van Dort,

I bring you good news, Victor was washed ashore some three miles down the cost at Eastcombe.

There he discovered by my good self, and brought to my home where with the help of my personal doctor he has started on the road to recovery. I've been has asked me to write to your goodself informing you of his condition. I'd advise that you depart forthwith, to Westmoore lodge Eastcombe, where I am waiting for you.

Lord Mark Richardson.

Three days earlier

Victor was watching with horror a huge wave smashing over the harbour wall, rearing upwards and it started to crest. The roar of this monster wave was deafening, his last thoughts were of Emily, as the sunlight was blocked out by the wave.

Closing his eyes he waited for death, and the cry of "New Arrival" from Mrs Plum.

However as he waited for death, nothing much seemed to happen.

"You know, standing there with your eyes closed really isn't going to help you know." It was a voice which was full of mockery.

Opening his eyes Victor could see the impossible, outside his office people were frozen in mid stride with panicked looks upon their faces. The wave was about to smash into the building, but was simply held in place, everything was still there was no sound save for his own heart beat and the voice of Marcus Rothschild.

"...what...?" was all Victor could stutter.

"You Victor Van Dort, have been noticed, your time spent in the land of the dead, has marked you if you will."

Victor started to feel the blood drain out of his face.

"m..m..marked me, how?" as Victor felt dizzy.  
"Sorry my old cocker, not allowed to say, yes see they get awfully upset if I do. But, noticed you have become." He continued as his fingers played with his dragon headed staff.

"Oh, th...th...th...that...that doesn't sound too good." Was all that Victor could say as his stutter had returned with vengeance, as it did when he was under too much stress.

"Well that as it may well be, however here we are, in a spot, a tick away from tock, or is it a tock away from a tick? I just cannot recall, but you do get the idea, do you not?" His voice ended with a sharp tone to it.

"In a word, no, sorry." Victors voice was soft, filled with dread and fright.

Marcus let slip a long sigh, why was it always the same he thought to himself.

"You have been touched by the supernatural, as in the dead, the corpse bride Emily. You know the one you 'almost' married, or did marry, oh heavens forbid." he snapped, as a sharp crack of thunder echoed around them.

"Sorry..." Marcus said as for a brief moment he looked upwards before continuing; "...anyway, that's why I'm here, behold your death..." Marcus continued in a theatrical manor, as he pointed towards the massive wave, which was still motionless.

"Wh...wh...what..." stammered Victor who looked at the massive wall of water, which seemed posed to crash down up the harbour.

"This rather impressive wave, wall of water, call it what you wish. However which was sent by unnatural forces to kill you, Victor. You see they see you in far different light, they see you for what you could have been. And as yet you have not become, and as such means you're easy to extinguish. Which is rather disappointing, don't you agree."

"But..."victor started to say, before being cut off.

"But nothing my dear boy, you've seen the other side, you've used magic, or rather been party to it. And you Victor, have seen things that very few mortals are suppose to see. And that's why I'm here, tis the time of your calling, here you'll need this." Marcus said as from out of nowhere he produced a rubber duck.

Victor looked first at the duck then at Marcus, who smiled an semi evil smile, and simply said; "Bath time!" As the wall of water behind them crashed down onto the buildings and time continued as if nothing had happened.

Upon a grassy hill within a stone circle.

Marcus slowly phased effortlessly into being, looking round for Victor, who as yet had not arrived. Marcus sniffed the air a couple of time, before he quickly stepped to one side, as out of nowhere a column of water slammed into the ground depositing a rather wet Victor.

Holding out his hand Marcus, Victor grabbed it and pulled himself up. With a quick look around his location, Victor saw he was upon a hill. A hill which was surrounded by a stone circle, which in turn was surrounded by mist.

The thick swirling mist which seemed to encompass the site, hiding from view anything which could be on the other side.

"Where are we...?" Victor managed to say between gasps for air.

"Well, you're here, in the circle." Marcus said as he gestured to the stone circle to which Victor now found himself within.

"Care to elaborate?" Victor asked hopefully.

"Victor, you recall when I said I wasn't allowed to tell you earlier?" Marcus began, as he walked over to a rather large stone and leaned upon it.

"Yes"

"Well Victor, tis the same now"  
"Oh right, that's really not helpful." Victor sighed.

"Sorry, but rules are rules. Now you may be wondering why you're here and not, well dead."  
"The thought had crossed my mind." Victor replied in a resigned manor.

"Well if you recall Victor, I said it was the time of your calling?"

"Yes..."

"Well here it is! You Mr Van Dort, have two choices before you. One, go back to the wave, and die, probably. Or two you can join with us. I can tell you a tad of information, nothing too much, until you've chosen that is."

Walking towards Victor, Marcus tapped his walking cane upon the ground, as he did so, a small shimmering orb flowed above it.

Inside it, Victor saw Emily, she was walking with Victor within the land of the dead.

"This was noticed, by the old ones, they've been keeping an eye on you for sometime. You've been chosen because of your supernatural experience within the land of the dead." Marcus contined to explain, as the vision shifted to show Victor talking with Elder Gutknecht.

"Mortals are not suppose to cross over until they, not to put a finer point on it, die. You young sir did so, thrice, but then you were prepared to make the ultimate sacrifice, and thus your fate was sealed in more ways then one. As I told you the wave not of nature, but was crafted by the dark arts. For on that fateful day, a victims dreams came true. She was set free form a never ending curse, however upon the same day, a vengeful soul was forge from the fire of hell."

As the image change to that of Lord Barkis. "Lord Barkis the murdering bastard made a pact with the devil. For his soul he would be returned to the land of the living to seek his revenge. Given access to the dark arts, but not without rules, which he must obey, and I fear his first victim was you, his second..."  
"Victoria..." Victor's voice faded as his face drained of colour.

Meanwhile on a Sloop off the coast of the Isle of Wight.

The crew of the Dawn Break were working hard to get the vessel ready to continue it journey towards port. Below deck Lord Barkis looked at his new face, he'd be unrecognisable that was for sure. He now sported shoulder length red hair, and a full beard. He appeared to be no more then in his mid twenties. At just five feet four tall, rather then the towering six feet which he'd been before he'd died, it felt rather strange.

Looking in the Gothic mirror which was held within eight imps, all of whom were holding the mirror in place. He repeated his new name; "Lord Mark Richardson, has a certain ring to it.." he sneer to himself.

The room's temperature suddenly dropped, and from the shadows a black hooded figure phased into being.

"everything is in place, ready for my revenge?" He asked, there seemed to be no answer just a light whistling within the breeze.

"Good, I do hope they don't mind getting a tad damp, especially the cursed Victor Van Dort.." His voice ended in a snarl as his mentioned Victors name.

Again, silence, before the now Lord Mark Richardson spoke again.

"Make sure Victoria gets this..." he contained, as he handed over a scroll.

((N.B))

So I've caught you imagination with this story, I'd like to know, and if so dear reader I will continue with it..

Reviews are always welcome, flamers not so


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